


Harm

by neuroflux



Category: Gallipoli (1981)
Genre: Ableism, Amputation, Anal Sex, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Disability, First Time, Held Down, M/M, Major Character Injury, Public Sex, Quiet Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Slight Age Difference, Violence, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neuroflux/pseuds/neuroflux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank and Archy's first time in the ship on the way to the battlefield, followed by a heaping dose of angst</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harm

**Author's Note:**

> Posted unedited from its original state, may I present the first fanfic I ever wrote (as a gift for a friend), as a virgin high schooler no less! Please don't judge too harshly. Kind of embarrassingly hilarious how many of my future kinks are revealed here, haha. Has a song at the end but not a songfic.
> 
> See additional author's notes at the end for more detailed, spoilery warnings beyond what is in the tags.

Dark in the ship, headed off to unknown shores. Frank doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s scared, scared for himself and for Archy, because no matter what Archy thinks, war isn’t a child’s game. He shivers a bit, and Archy, lying behind him in the dark of the hold, presses closer, so close that Frank can sense the heat radiating in the space between them. He can feel Archy’s soft breath on the back of his neck, prickling the nerves up and down his spine, making his entire body hum with tension. And he’s tired, tired of waiting in the cold dark, to get sent away to war, waiting for Archy, waiting for everything in the world that has never happened for him. But when Archy murmurs sleepily, and shifts even closer, and _oh god oh god he’s pressed against Frank’s back_ , and drapes his arm over Frank’s chest, he lays still and silent, petrified that this isn’t what it seems.

He can’t turn to see if Archy’s awake or not, and he simply lies there, trying to breath evenly, listening to the muffled snores and whispers of the other soldiers in the hold. And then Archy starts to move his hand over his chest, hesitantly, so slowly at first that Frank’s sure he’s dreaming it, that he’s drifted off to sleep. But the quiet caresses increase, shyly at first, but then with increasing confidence, sliding up under Frank’s shirt and brushing his bare chest. Frank inhales sharply, trying to muffle the sound so the others won’t hear, and flips around quickly to lie face to face with Archy.

“Frank...” an uncertain look on his face. And Frank remembers the expectant silences between them, the adoring glances Archy is always casting his way when he thinks he isn’t looking, and thinks to himself, _No. I can’t take advantage of him. Can’t afford to get tangled up in this emotionally._ But a larger part of him is thinking, _Fuck it. I’m scared, I’m cold, and we probably won’t live through the week anyway. I need a distraction. Go ahead, take advantage of the situation. Just fuck him and forget him. It’ll take your mind off things. What harm could it possibly do?_ But deep down, he knows. Still, he turns to Archy, murmuring, “Shh. It’s alright.”

Quick desperate kiss to get Archy to stop talking, and he runs his hands up under his shirt, planing the hard muscles of Archy’s chest. Archy curves towards him, and he deepens the kiss, swallowing Archy’s moans when he pinches one of his nipples. The vibrations pulse straight down his spinal cord and into his cock.

Archy’s hands are everywhere, clumsy and eager, fumbling at Frank’s chest, pulling his hips closer to rub their erections together through thick cloth. He tugs Frank’s shirt up as Frank raises his arms over his head, trying to keep his movement to a minimum, all too aware of the sleeping form on the pallet next to his. Archy grabs Frank’s wrists where they rest over his head, pins them to the floor, and rolls over on top of him, grinding down against him, making Frank draw in his breath sharply with the sudden full body contact.

Frank thrusts upward, curving his neck up to meet Archy’s ardent, silent kisses. He struggles a bit against Archy’s firm grip for the feel of it, pleased with the reaction when he only bears down harder, pressing Frank’s skull into the rough planks of the floor with the force of his kisses. Archy lets go of Frank’s wrists, reaches down with one hand between them, fumbling to open Frank’s pants, and Frank takes advantage of the distraction to flip them over, drawing a harsh gasp from Archy as he’s pressed down onto the pallet.

Frank grins through the kiss, reaching down quickly to unfasten Archy’s pants, feeling the younger man’s moan vibrate in his throat as he slips his hand through the fly to grope him through his thin army-issued underwear. Archy squirms, thrusting helplessly upward, trying to wriggle out of his pants while still maintaining full bodily contact with Frank. Frank leans back, yanks Archy’s pants and underwear down around his ankles, and engulfs his cock in his warm, wet mouth, all in one sudden, violent movement. Archy’s entire body goes taut, arcing up from the pallet in an aching curve of sensation, while Frank’s head bobs up and down and his tongue moves over the head of Archy’s cock, swirling the pre-cum leaking from his slit. Frank is painfully hard, and he reaches down inside his own pants, taking his cock in a firm grasp and stroking, his silent moan reverberating up Archy’s cock, setting off fireworks in the other man’s brain.

Frank spits on his fingers and works one smoothly into Archy’s hole. As his finger breaches the tight ring of muscle, the silken heat inside makes his cock twitch. He pushes in and out, adding a second finger and then a third, staring up at Archy’s face in the strange blue light of the ship, blond hair tousled and damp with sweat, head tipped back and eyes closed, an intense expression of concentration on his face as he struggles to keep silent. Frank curls his fingers, raking them over Archy’s prostate, and Archy presses his lips tightly together, his look of concentration deepening. Frank does it again. Archy lets out a tiny whimper, and Frank is undone, no longer able to contain his need.

He pulls his fingers out and rips Archy’s pants all the way off as Archy leans forward to fumble Frank out of his own pants, only pulling them down halfway in his haste. As Frank sits back on his haunches, Archy spits on his hand and grabs the older man’s cock, stroking up and down, coating it with spit and pre-cum, his callused thumb rubbing over the smooth skin. Frank barely suppresses a moan. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes with pleasure, thrusting forward into Archy’s hand. Suddenly the sensation stops, and he gives a small exhalation of protest. He opens his eyes to see Archy lying back down in front of him, legs spread and engorged cock bobbing on his stomach, leaking onto his shirt, and the sight nearly makes him come right there.

He presses forward slowly, cock sliding into Archy’s hole, hot and wet and tight, silken sensation engulfing him totally. Scarcely able to control himself, he begins thrusting forward, Archy’s legs around his hips, varying his angle until he finds Archy’s prostate, thrusting into it again and again. Archy tightens around him, and Frank grabs his cock, stroking up and down to match the rhythm of his thrusts. He can feel himself nearing orgasm, and he speeds up his thrusts, pounding into Archy’s prostate as the younger man starts gasping, forgetting totally about the other men in the hold.

Archy curves upward, quivering, as his orgasm approaches, and as Frank continues to thrust into him, his moans raise in pitch and volume, going from deep and throaty to high and breathy, and coming faster and faster. Then he tightens around Frank’s cock, squirting all over his own chest, keening out a final high, breathless moan as he comes. Frank is sent over the edge by his climax, and thrusts into Archy as he gasps silently into the dark, eyes closed and mouth open as he comes, his cock squeezed by Archy’s spasming muscles, drawing the last of his orgasm out of him. For one moment, he forgets totally about the dank hold, the water lapping against the sides of the ship that is carrying them inexorably towards the war, and loses himself in the moment, the sound of Archy’s hoarse gasps as he thrusts into him, the sensations around his cock.

Then he comes back to reality as he collapses on top of Archy, both of them panting in the sudden silence, and slowly rolls off him and onto his pallet. Archy lies there, his wild gasps gradually tapering off to quiet breathing, then peels off his semen-covered shirt, using it to mop up himself and Frank. He gives Frank a sloppy, tender, open-mouthed kiss that makes Frank go half hard all over again, then flips over onto his stomach, draping an arm across Frank’s bare chest. Frank feels Archy’s soft breath on his cheek, ruffling his hair. He closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, thinking, _So much for not getting emotionally involved, then. What the hell are we supposed to do now?_

Months later, after the ship lands at Anzac Cove, after the horror and death under the bright Turkish sun, the desperate kisses and furtive handjobs under blankets in the trenches; after all of that, after Archy runs forward into the line of fire, his body perforated by bullets, and Frank was too slow, too late to stop it, Frank lies in his hospital bed with the lump of his body the wrong shape under the covers, and thinks, _The joke was on me all along. Worried about Archy getting his heart broken, and now look at him. Dead and blown to kingdom come, with me left to pick up the pieces. ‘Cept I haven’t got any fucking hands. Probably sitting up there laughing, looking down at me. Well fuck you, Archy Hamilton. Fuck. You._

Then all of Frank’s fury leaves him in a sudden rush of hopelessness, and as he lets out a muffled sob, he thinks, _Fuck. This wasn’t part of the plan. I wasn’t supposed to fall in_ love _, for god’s sake._ A nurse wanders into the room to change his bandages, and after she leaves, Frank drifts off to sleep, wondering, _What the hell am I supposed to do now?_

* * *

 

...Now those that were left, well we tried to survive  
In a mad world of blood, death and fire  
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive  
But around me the corpses piled higher  
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit  
And when I woke up in my hospital bed  
And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead  
Never knew there were worse things than dying  
For no more I'll go waltzing Matilda  
All around the green bush far and near  
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs  
No more waltzing Matilda for me

So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimed  
And they shipped us back home to Australia  
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane  
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla  
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay  
I looked at the place where my legs used to be  
And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me  
To grieve and to mourn and to pity  
And the band played Waltzing Matilda  
As they carried us down the gangway  
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared  
Then turned all their faces away...

\- And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, by Eric Bogle

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for canon character death (Archy), brief mentions of violence/injury (probably about canon-typical level, possibly even less graphic), Frank ending up with multiple amputations and accompanying ableism and internalized ableism related to that.


End file.
